


Where the Heart Is

by cookingwithcyanide



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, and many more! - Freeform, featuring many of my headcanons such as:, for like 1 sentence tho and the guy's fine, like a colleague, mentions of suspected murder and confirmed dismemberment, robotnik feeds intruders to his cat!, robotnik has a hairless cat!, robotnik talks to his cat like a littol man, robotnik with piercings!, robust security systems, this is self indulgent as hell, weirdly domestic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23091496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookingwithcyanide/pseuds/cookingwithcyanide
Summary: The door flies open and Stone does his best not to flinch. Dr. Robotnik stares at him incredulously, wearing a threadbare MIT shirt and sweatpants with his headphones still playing around his neck. To Stone’s surprise, there’s jewelry in the half-dozen or so piercings he’d just barely noticed when he first met the doctor (he had taken note of them because it was his job to notice things, but Stone had thought they were old, maybe closed up. Seeing the doctor with titanium glinting menacingly off his face and ears is… unexpected.) There’s an intricate tattoo comprised of thin lines and angles in red and black ink covering most of his left arm. He’s gripping a monkey wrench in a way that Stone isn’t entirely sure is benign.Or, Stone visits the Doctor’s apartment.
Relationships: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik & Agent Stone, Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone
Comments: 22
Kudos: 248





	Where the Heart Is

**Author's Note:**

> Wow this is… entirely self indulgent. The Stobotnik discord supplied the lovely Lensem, and I won’t shut up to them about my dumb punky headcannons for Robotnik. They are longsuffering and wonderful. ANYWAYS one of the 5 gay emotions is “want tattoo” and you can’t tell me that Robotnik as an angry youthTM didn’t take the concept of Putting Metal Into Your Face and run with it. It’s fun, it’s grounding, it makes a lot of people a little afraid of you!! Thanks for coming to my projection of my aspirations onto a fictional jackass. I love him dearly.
> 
> The working title of this fic was “damn bitch, you live like this?"

Dr. Robotnik hasn’t been into the lab in 5 days. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue for Agent Stone; he gets to power through all of his backed up paperwork at his desk without being interrupted by demands and dressings down. Previous assistants of the doctor tell him that it’s pretty standard for him to disappear for a week or two sometimes, and to be thankful for the respite. He’s only been assigned to Robotnik for a few months, but he already knows not to look a gift horse in the mouth with this.

  


Except, there’s an important test that’s scheduled to happen in two days in Cambodia, and Robotnik hasn’t been to any of the briefings. Stone doesn’t want to think about the headache, or the  _ paperwork _ that will ensue if the doctor isn’t there, so he starts digging. 

  


The first thing he finds out is that Robotnik has an apartment. Very few of his previous assistants have been there, and fewer have come back. It is, apparently, not on record anywhere in or out of the government- which is a feat in and of itself- and the shaken young woman who whispers the address to him only does so after he swears hand to God that it won’t ever get out, and whether it does or not _ he didn’t hear it from her. _

  


The next thing Stone is told is that, should he value his life, he should never try to go to Robotnik’s apartment. One agent stolidly refuses to even tell him what floor Robotnik lives on, saying that “It’s for your own good.” Another yanks off his prosthetic hand and growls, “You see this shit? Got shot off before I could even knock.” Stone finds evidence of at least one man who was wiped from nearly every record after being sighted leaving for the apartment, and knows there are almost certainly others who have disappeared more completely.

  


Unfortunately, Stone has dealt with the consequences of failing to meet the doctor’s expectations before, and he knows that as much as the man might hate bureaucracy and all the paperwork and politics that ensue, he’d be loathe to miss out on a chance to show off his toys in an unrestricted site in front of stiffs and suits who don’t hold a candle to the sheer chaos he knows he can cause. So the next day, Stone makes sure his affairs are in order, makes sure his mother knows he loves her, and gets into his car.

  


\---

  


Stone parks the black SUV with its tinted windows on the curb. Knowing that it would be tracked, and knowing the doctor’s strict insistence on privacy, Stone had set off a low-grade EMP from inside the vehicle. It was a good thing he wasn’t using the GPS to navigate, because even the headlights were fried. He’d had to jumpstart the motor before he left, but Stone figures it was the wise thing to do. He locks the car and looks up at the completely average building the illustrious Dr. Robitnik supposedly lives in. There’s no real security, no doorman. He doesn’t even need to be buzzed in. In the middle of the third floor, the door to what is supposedly Robotnik’s apartment doesn’t appear any different than any of the others in the hall, save for the telltale red glow of a camera where the peephole should be. Stone takes a deep breath and knocks, half prepared to be incinerated on the spot when the camera flickers and brightens. For a small eternity of 60 seconds, nothing happens. Stone tentatively knocks again, more firmly now. This time he hears a muffled  _ clang  _ and indecipherable shouting from within.

  


The door flies open and Stone does his best not to flinch. Dr. Robotnik stares at him incredulously, wearing a threadbare MIT shirt and sweatpants with his headphones still playing around his neck. To Stone’s surprise, there’s jewelry in the half-dozen or so piercings he’d just barely noticed when he first met the doctor (he had taken note of them because it was his job to notice things, but Stone had thought they were old, maybe closed up. Seeing the doctor with titanium glinting menacingly off his face and ears is… unexpected.) There’s an intricate tattoo comprised of thin lines and angles in red and black ink covering most of his left arm. He’s gripping a monkey wrench in a way that Stone isn’t entirely sure is benign.

  


“What the fuck do you want, Stone? Why could you  _ possibly _ be here?” He’s glaring daggers, but Stone is momentarily distracted by the flash of another horseshoe peeking from beneath his upper lip, hanging over his teeth. He clears his throat.

  


“I’m very sorry to bother you sir, but you haven’t been to the lab in 6 days and you’re expected at the testing grounds outside Siem Reap by 1400 local time tomorrow.” Stone says it all in a rush, waiting for Robotnik to tear into him. Instead, he frowns, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

  


“What the hell do you mean it’s… what, Tuesday?” Stone nods. Robotnik runs a hand over his face- Stone can’t help but notice how it catches in the bars through his eyebrow, the ring in his lip- and softly mutters, “ _ shit. _ ” He walks back inside his apartment without another word, but he leaves the door open behind him so Stone hesitantly steps through the doorway, still half expecting to be shot down by some hidden laser.

  


Robotnik’s apartment isn’t  _ homey _ by any stretch of the word, but it’s definitely lived in. The walls are painted black and are mostly covered in foam panel soundproofing, blackout curtains are drawn over the windows and all the furniture is covered with countless tools and spare parts, pushed against the walls to make room for the large mess of scrap and wires he’s working on. Stone skirts the room to wait in the small kitchen- hopefully less perilous- connected to the room. In comparison with the clutter of the main room, the kitchen is barren. The fridge, when Stone furtively peeks in, contains nothing but a carton of eggs and a nearly-empty bottle of orange juice. There is a solitary apple rotting on the counter next to a small stack of cat food, and when Stone turns around he spies a skinny hairless cat staring spitefully at him from the narrow space between the top of the percolator and the cabinet. He manages to get close enough to see that his tags denote his name as “Lensem” before the cat hisses and prowls away to the other end of the counter. 

  


Stone’s head snaps up as Robotnik comes back into the room, his face wet and his hair dripping onto his collar slightly, pushed out of his face. He’s unscrewing the tiny spikes off of his piercings, grumbling that  _ airline security’s hard enough to get though as it is, this is why he doesn’t bother wearing them to work anymore, damn neolithic government metal detectors can’t tell a safety pin from a switchblade, _ and dropping them each with a soft  _ ping _ into a mostly empty ashtray on the counter. Lensem immediately rubs up against him, purring loudly when Robotnik scratches him behind his big ears. The movement draws Stone’s eyes to the tattoo running like circuitry from just above his wrist all the way until it disappears under the sleeve of his tee. Lensem hops onto the doctor’s shoulders, and the combination of the hairless cat and mad scientist probably would have been pretty cinematic if Robotnik didn’t still look so bedraggled. 

  


“Hmm. You’re lucky he likes you; the last new person he met was the building sup, and he wears an eyepatch now.” He looked a little too proud at the memory, smugly scritching under Lensem’s chin, to the cat’s obvious delight. “Now!” He claps and nudges Lensem off of him. “Go and grab my bag from my room so we can get going.” He impatiently shoos Stone to the left down the hallway.

  


Compared to the rest of the apartment, the bedroom is pretty neat; just plain grey walls and a heavy black blanket tangled up on the bed with mismatched sheets. There are blackout curtains drawn in here as well, although the lighting is less harsh, and a cat bed sits next to a basket of toys in the corner. There aren’t any photos on the walls, but some schematics have been taped up next to the headboard and there are sharpies littering the nightstand next to a folded pair of glasses and a tablet. There is no luggage of any description to be seen.

  


“Sir?” He calls back down the hall, “Where exactly is your bag?”

  


“Where the fuck do you think, it’s in the closet, where else would it be?” Robotnik shouts back from the other room off the hallway.

  


“Of course it is sir, my apologies.”

  


Before he can move, Robotnik shoves past him, still brushing his teeth (ironically, Stone notices, his toothbrush isn’t electric), and pulls open the closet to reveal a capsule wardrobe in mostly black and three identical suitcases next to a small chest of drawers. “Where is it we’re being carted off to again?” The words are muffled around his toothbrush and a mouthful of foam. 

  


“Cambodia, sir.”

  


The doctor  _ hmphs _ and grabs the middle of the three cases on the floor, shoving it into Stone’s arms. “Feed Lensem, would you? I need to get dressed.” Before Stone can respond, Robotnik shuts the door in his face.

  


Stone goes back to the kitchen, a little shell shocked. The doctor isn’t less imposing, exactly, mussed and comfortable in his own home, but his edges are softer. His words are just as curt, but they come off as more grouchy than bitter. Outside of the brushed steel walls of the lab, without his clean-cut coat and slacks and hair gelled nearly back, he somehow doesn't look any less intense or authoritative, just… softer. 

  


His musing is interrupted by a loud  _ mrow _ at his feet. Lensem leaps onto the counter and stalks over to the stack of canned food, where he sits expectantly, tail twitching. Stone hunts through Robotnik’s kitchen drawers for a can opener (unearthing various screwdrivers, tweezers, wirecutters, batteries, dozens of bolts and screws, two loaded guns, and an impressive array of knives before he finds it near the fridge) to the tune of Lensem’s yelling. Once he pries the lid off one of the cans and taps it into a small bowl that's sitting next to the pile, Lensem butts his stubbly head into Stone’s palm until he scritches behind his ears, not letting him get away without yowling until he’s licked the bowl clean. When Stone takes it to the sink to wash, Lensem hops onto his shoulders like he had the doctor’s earlier. 

  


“Glad to see you’ve been playing nice.”

  


Stone startles, causing Lensem’s claws to momentarily grip into his shoulder as he turns. “I think he likes me.” His boss is standing in the doorway, looking as put together now as any other time Stone has seen him at work, but that strange softness hasn’t gone away.

  


“Tch.” Robotnik steps around him in the tiny kitchen to appraise the withered apple on the counter before apparently deeming it unfit for consumption and throwing it in the trash. “Just because you gave him food, the bastard. Speaking of, the next flight to Cambodia leaves in two hours if I’m not mistaken- and I’m sure I’m not. We should leave now to have time to get food on the way.” He leans in to scoop Lensem off of Stone’s shoulders, Stone blinking at the sudden closeness and the smell of his aftershave, and holds the cat up to look very seriously into his eyes. “As always, Lensem, feel free to cannibalize anyone the security system kills. Don’t gorge yourself.” Lensem’s bony pink tail swishes, and Stone can’t help but think the cat both understands and is excited by the prospect, remembering his predecessor who was rumored never to have returned from Robotnik’s home. He doesn’t think too deeply about it as he picks up Robotnik’s suitcase and follows him to the door, patting Lensem’s head in farewell as is demanded of him when the doctor deposits him on the back of the couch on his way out.

  


\---

  


Things with the doctor go back to their more or less regular schedule after returning from the  _ very _ successful weapons testing in Cambodia. After the other agents gave up on trying to gossip about what Robotnik’s house was like ( _ Did his bots try to kill you for knocking? Did you see the inside? What does he have in there, what was he building? Was the whole place booby trapped? _ ) without getting any answers and a few weeks pass in relative peace- or as peaceful as anything can be with Dr. Robotnik around, anyways- Stone has nearly put the incident entirely out of mind. That is, until he’s shuffling through his mail over coffee in the breakroom one morning before heading into the lab for the day. Buried amid the usual stack of briefings and paperwork is a blank white envelope, too heavy to contain just paper. 

  


Cautiously, Stone examines the unadorned envelope. Nothing overtly dangerous should be able to make it through security screening, but it’s unusual, which rarely means anything good. However, when Stone carefully slits the top of the envelope, all that fall out are a nondescript metal key and a note in Robotnik’s spidery handwriting instructing that it is meant  _ “For use in emergency situations ONLY, or you’ll be dead before you hit the threshold.” _

  


Stone smiles and tucks the key safely away inside his suit.

**Author's Note:**

> i googled "circuit tattoos" for ref and i beseech yall to do the same they look SO COOL


End file.
